Lost and Found
by BurningIndecision
Summary: A romantic, angsty, battle-filled reimagining of the relationship between my favorite swarthy dwarf and his fiery elven sweetheart. Not for young eyes.
1. Part I: Love

AUthor's Note: I hesitated to release this one out into the world, mostly because it's darker, grittier, and more explicit than my usual fare. Nevertheless, here it is, and hopefully it will be enjoyed. A bit of smut in this first portion; fair warning. :)

* * *

_I will have war!_

Thorin's words echoed in Kili's head as he stared into the ceiling with anxiety and confusion. Could he allow his uncle's madness to propel them headlong into carnage? He could not defy his king, and there now seemed no other way. The gold sickness had taken him; that much was clear. It appeared as though history was simply doomed to repeat itself. Had this been their destiny all along? Upon the creation of their ancient line, had the Valar already sealed their fate, burying an illness in their blood that would lead them to a bitter and destructive end? Or was the scourge upon their heritage a test? If so, it was one they had all surely failed. So many unanswered questions assaulted his mind, but he forced them to the weighside. There was somewhere he had to be.

Their cousin, Dain Ironfoot, had arrived only hours ago to aid them, but already a small contingent of his soldiers from the Iron Hills was posted just inside the entrance to Erebor, guarding against the surprise attack that all others had suspected, but Kili knew would not come. He passed them, earning nothing but a few wary stares, as he expertly tossed himself over the side of the rock bridge, and began to descend the cliff face towards the Eastern gate of Dale. Undoubtedly they had been told not to question his authority, as he remained third in line to the throne, but perhaps more importantly under the threat of impending war, they likely didn't have the time to waste on worrying after one dwarf's whereabouts.

As his boots hit the rocky ground at the base of the mountain, he barely took a breath before continuing forward, focused only on reaching his secret place, the place that belonged to he and his love. In the dead of night, under cover of silence and shadow, many times they had ventured there to carry on their secret trysts. His heart swelled as he remembered tasting her lips beneath the stars, her pale skin glowing as she moved in the moonlight, his fingertips mapping the curves of her body while he dreamed of undressing her and claiming her flesh.

As usual, Tauriel was already waiting for him there, smiling in relief as she ran to meet him. But this was not another tender moment in which he would declare his love. It was a final goodbye, an attempt to save her, to convince her not to follow him to his death on the battleground. The Grey Wizard had persuaded the armies of elves and men to wait until dawn for their final audience with the mountain king, and when Thorin denied them what he'd promised them, Kili didn't want his lady elf anywhere near the ensuing skirmish.

"I've come only to release you from whatever obligations you feel towards me," he said sternly. "I don't require your assistance, nor would my kin welcome your presence in battle, even in such dire circumstances as these. I was hoping you might leave our lands this very night, and I wanted," he swallowed hard, biting back his emotions, "to see you one last time, and say goodbye."

"Why would you say this?" her brow furrowed in distress. "I cannot leave you to the enemy, knowing I send you to your grave. Even were you not outnumbered nearly three to one, your forces would be no match for Thranduil's army. Many of the Eldar are hundreds of years older than I. They have seen enough battle to fill ten of your lifetimes. At least, together, we have a fighting chance. I do not care what the others think, dwarves ..._or_ elves."

He knew it was true. She had already been banished from the kingdom of her fathers, a punishment for polluting her heritage by way of the attachment that she so obviously felt towards a dwarf. The only way to keep her from a part in this loathsome war was to make her believe that his feelings for her had run cold. It would be the most vulgar and despicable falsity that he'd ever had to force from his mouth, but he needed to try, even though the very thought of it was making him nauseous.

"You and I," he kept his distance, working desperately to neutralize his expression, "we were only a fantasy. I see now that it was foolish to ...misinterpret, my infatuation with you as something more. I hope you can forgive me; I've seen little of the world."

He'd practically choked on the words as he spoke them, and they left a foul and bitter taste to fester in his throat, but he knew that it would take even more to convince her.

"So you will simply stop loving me now," she challenged, "after everything that has happened, after all we have shared?"

"I would change it all if I could," he continued his ruse, "go back and strike myself from your memory. I would leave you to the path that your kin had lain out for you, leave you warm, and safe."

"And unfulfilled?" she took a step towards him.

"That first moment," he took her hand, "when our eyes met in the wood, is a moment that I've stolen. It was never supposed to happen. I have pilfered your love and your destiny, like a greedy thief in the night."

"You have taken nothing but what I gave you freely," she returned pointedly. "Do not paint me a helpless maiden who has been taken in by your charms. My destiny is my own, and_ I _choose with whom I allow it to intertwine."

"And intertwine with you I would," sadness crept across his features, "were you mine to do with what I wanted. But our story is not a romance set to music. It's a tragedy spiraling towards a finale of cold steel, flaming arrows, blood, and pain. You cannot save me; you must let me go," he begged. "Return to the forest, and bury the memory of my affection, so deep that even _you _lose sight of it with time."

"I cannot bury what will haunt me, even lodged in the frozen ground. I would rather leave this world by your side," she gazed penetratingly into his eyes, "than face an eternity of hollowness and doubt, never forgetting what could have been."

"Look what I've done to you!" he stepped away from her, shaking with the power of his own malicious words. "I have turned a strong and magnificent creature into the lap dog of a lesser man! My soul may burn for you, but I leave it to the mercy of your flames. The end that Aule has set for me will earn me a special place in hell!"

"Make no mistake," she roared in defiance, "it is _me_ that you burn!"

"My ardor, my lady," he purred with a vicious tone, "could reach one thousand degrees, and still it would not match the heat that flows from every inch of you. Your touch serves to scar me, your lips to destroy me, and were I to surrender to your greater temptations, I've no doubt my heart would be charred into ashes."

She floated across the ground toward him with the same ethereal grace that had always bewitched him, until she was close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.

"You know nothing of temptation, my glorious prince, until you have seen the sparkle in your own chocolate eyes."

Unable to hold back, his mouth crashed into hers hard, moving against her with an almost violent strength. But after just a few fleeting moments of surrender, he had regained his senses, and again pushed her away.

"Leave me!" he growled, in an attempt to goad her into deserting him. "The devotion I bore you was a vile and odious lie! I desired you as a man desires the company of a whore! Go now, mount your mare, and ride as fast and as far as you can. Fly away from here, and don't ever turn around!"

"I don't believe you," she closed the distance his wandering footsteps had created.

"You may doubt me, maiden, but leave me in peace. I have no need of your sweet words, nor appetite for your comfort."

"You are lying!" her features distorted in misery.

"Understand, elf! I do not...!"

He steeled himself with all his might, and tried again to force it out.

"I... do not..."

_I do not love you. _It repeated again and again inside his head, but he was unable to will such venomous fiction to leave his tongue.

"You cannot make your lips," she smirked, "the lips that conspire with my own, loose a lie so insidious and damning to my ears."

His resolve was beginning to leave him, and she'd easily seen through his abhorrent facade. Before he could stop it, the truth was a deluge, streaming freely from his mouth.

"I've tried in every way I know how, to purge my passions for you, but they dwell in my bones. My blood, and every single cell, every pore, are saturated beyond reproach, with the love I feel for you. It will never die. But how can I allow you to follow me, my star, into the abyss of an accursed, evil war? I relinquish my sword, and my life to the cause. I will not take all that you have to give, and allow it to expire with this mortal shell."

"Then I will take all that _you_ have, and more. Show me all your love, let it flow from you until it is spent, and empty yourself of the burdens you carry," she urged. "Allow me to hold them when you walk onto the battlefield."

He wanted to resist her, to refuse her what she craved, but her only desire was to ease his pain, and in those small hours, it was already overflowing. The moment that her fingers first moved across his lips, their bodies and souls had been destined to collide, as if their worship for eachother were itself a force of nature.

"If I let my hunger for you take me," his eyes drilled into her, a final warning, "I may feast upon your emotions, and your flesh, until there is nothing left to hold."

Secretly she hoped that his words were true. She ached for the unsettling comfort of oblivion. To use up her feelings until she was hollow, was to grant her a respite from the anguish of their insistence. If physically loving him could make her numb, it would be his last gift to her before he left this world.

"Hold nothing back," she whispered, taking his face in her hands. "...I want it all."

A maddening lust had taken root with her words, but Kili forced himself to retain composure, slipping the laces of her leather armor loose with all the care and respect a noble warrior deserves. But as her breast plate, then her bracers hit the ground, she placed her hands upon his shoulders and brought her lips to his ear. Just her breath caressing the sensitive skin at the side of his throat sent a shiver of anticipation up and down his spine, and when the next soft utterances left her tongue, he completely and entirely lost control.

"I said no holding back."

It was all that he needed. His restraint flew away on the icy breeze, and the deepest and most basic of instincts took over, bidding his hips and fingers and mouth to move in ways that would have made him blush just hours before. His hands slid up the sides of her thighs, underneath her tunic, and all the way to her waist, searching until they found the waistband of her leggings, then gripping it as she started to sway under his touch.

He dropped to his knees and gave a swift, urgent yank, pressing his fingertips against the bare skin above the fabric, and dragging them the rest of the way down her legs, along with the crinkled, then discarded garment. He gazed up at her with wide, voracious eyes, and with his hair wild and disheveled and his warm skin flushed, he looked primal, almost savage, as he sat back on his heels before slowly leaning forward to press his lips against her womanhood. His movements were unexpected, and when she felt his tongue, a loud and ardent whimper squeezed from her throat, driving him to even greater efforts.

Almost immediately, her knees began to buckle, but he held her around the backside to steady her frame, keeping her upright as he lapped and rubbed against all the right places while she gasped for breath. When he felt her start to tense and stiffen in his grasp, he slid his arms the rest of the way around her, supporting her entire weight as he nuzzled her harder until she cried out. Her legs began to tingle, her feet felt numb, and in the aftermath of such strong and mind-scrambling pleasure, she briefly lost control of her limbs.

He gently lowered her down to the ground, allowing her to settle in his loosened embrace as her heartbeat slowed, slumped against his chest. Her aroma filled his lungs, her slender fingers clung almost painfully to his shoulder, and the sound of each breath thrummed agonizingly through his ears, compelling him to please her in every way that was physically possible. He tilted her chin up to join their lips in a deep and vigorous kiss, slowly rocking forward and shifting their weight until he left her lying across the grass, peering up at him with an innocence that made him ache to touch her everywhere.

Hovering over her, he dipped down and ground obscenely against her hips, drawing a heated moan as she suffered the friction of his leather trousers across her pelvis. His hands slid up her ribs with a gratifying pressure, gliding over her heaving chest until they reached the ties of her velvety tunic and practically tore them loose in hunger. He peeled the cloth off of her and threw it aside, immediately assailing her senses with the fervor of his mouth upon her newly bared skin.

She was soft and supple, pale and perfect like untouched canvas, and something in him throbbed with the desire to feel her silky skin against his. He shrugged out of his jacket, and seconds later both his shirt and pants joined her clothing on the ground. Then he was pressing himself against her as he kissed her senseless, a heat burning through him like he'd never felt before. His palms followed tresses of her glossy hair down the length of her torso, before his fingers moved to the sweetest of places, plunging inside her to feel her quake as tremors of satisfaction wracked her body.

He moved in rhythm, brushing his lips against hers as he pushed, watching her eyelids flutter as she arched back, unable to control her own panting sighs. In a moment, she was burying a hand in his hair, clinging to him with all her strength as she rode out the peak. When she started to still and her labored breathing had calmed, he slowly began to stroke her with a light and doting touch. He tickled her delicate neck, running his thumbs across her collar bone, rubbing gently down her shoulders and forearms, before clasping one of her hands in his own and holding it tenderly against his chest.

"Hold onto me," he whispered, shifting her legs with his free hand.

Then he entered her as gradually and carefully as possible, moaning softly as he felt her warmth begin to envelope him. At first, he moved slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort while he planted his lips lovingly across her cheeks. But as she gave herself over to the ecstasy of their joining, her body slowly began to rock with him, and her grip across his back tightened, stirring an animalistic growl deep within his chest.

He lowered himself beside her, caressing her face, and gazing into her gorgeous eyes with an intense and visceral longing. Then after a few languorous, breathless kisses, he turned her away from him, wrapping his arms around her tight, and pressing inside her again from behind, causing a gasp to escape her throat. His fingertips spread across her hips pulling her down against him as he thrust impossibly deep, with insatiable friction that made her writhe under his grasp.

She reached back shakily, latching onto his side in the desperate need to anchor herself as exquisite pleasure pulsed in her core, surging through her like a tidal wave. His mouth left a trail of warmth at the nape of her neck, and he flattened his chest against her back, sliding his hands up to hold her closer as she finally came unbelievably hard, screaming his name between shallow breaths.

As soon as she finished convulsing, he helped her twist back towards him, letting his eyelids drop as her delicate palms caressed the sensitive shadows that covered his jaw. After a short rest, he sat up in the grass, pulling her upright to straddle his lap, smiling faintly against her milky flesh as he nuzzled her to inhale her intoxicating scent. He pressed his forehead against hers as he slid into her, the now familiar sensation of being filled so completely causing a ripple of rapture to wash over her.

Being inside her felt like being reborn, like dying in the profoundness of a humbling euphoria, and being brought back to life just by breathing her air. Before long, Kili was being drawn to the brink, and she followed him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and biting down as he cried out, barely able to breathe. They tumbled over the edge together, clutching eachother as he stroked her cheek. Then, for a moment, there was nothing else but her.

Under the blanket of a moonless night, the forest around them disappeared. No sound struck his ears, all he could feel was her touch, and the taste of her soft perfect lips made him weak, all thoughts of impending battle forced away to dissolve on the wind. She leaned back, and he followed her, never loosening his hold, resting his head against her chest to listen to the comforting hum of her steady heartbeat.

"It isn't fair," she whispered, breaking the silence as her fingers swept gingerly through his hair.

The tears that had been threatening her eyes overflowed, and he lifted his head to meet her gaze, kissing them away. He didn't have to ask her what wasn't fair. A sob hitched in his throat; he already knew the answer. Everything. To find eachother only to lose one another again, to plant the seeds of a lasting peace, only to the watch them disintegrate before they could grow, to give everything in an attempt to protect their lands, only for both of them to lose their homes: none of it was very fair.

But the most unjust and torturous thing of all, was that he now had to relinquish her devotion to the mercy of an infected and darkening world. Her love was so strong and deep that he could feel it around him, as if it were tangible. He couldn't fathom how he'd possibly find the will to walk away, and meet his death, knowing he was leaving her behind.

"Just remember," he said resolutely, as a single tear rolled down his cheek, "even when I am gone, I will always be watching over you. Just close your eyes, and you will find me. I will never let you walk alone."

They held eachother for a long time, both strengthened and destroyed by the intimacy they shared. And several times during the night, when his heart refilled painfully to the point of exploding, Kili poured out his love to her, body and soul, reconnecting with her physically again and again. Then, as the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, he stirred from an exhausting and troubled slumber, untangling their limbs to leave her side and silently begin gathering up his things.

* * *

"Where do you think you're going?" a familiar voice sounded over Kili's shoulder.

He was still lacing up the fly of his trousers, but his hands shifted up next to his chest in surrender when he felt a cold blade being pressed between his shoulders.

"I'm turning around," he said calmly, as he twisted in her direction, coming far too close to the nine inch dagger she held.

The elf had somehow managed to slip into her tunic behind him, without him even noticing that she'd awoken, and as he studied her stance for an indication of her intent, he briefly cursed her natural stealth. With him facing her, his intense eyes staring into her with purpose, her conviction wavered slightly, but her form remained impeccable.

"You won't hurt me, Tauriel," he prompted knowingly, testing her resolve by reaching toward her wrist.

But she wouldn't be swayed so easily, not when his life was on the line. She'd promised herself not to let him go, even if it meant she had to cause him a little pain. With lightning quick reflexes and perfect accuracy, she flicked her wrist to the side and flattened the blade, leaving a superficial but stinging wound sliced into the palm of his errant hand.

He drew in a sharp breath, but didn't flinch, only marginally surprised at her initial reaction. He knew she had intentionally left her mark across him shallow, and was still rather certain that she wouldn't allow herself to actually harm him.

"You know I need to go," he said resolutely. "The sun is already rising. I must return to my kin."

It broke his heart to have to make such a distinction. _His kin. _As if they belonged to him and she did not. But he couldn't deny that his place was amongst other dwarves, any more than she could deny that hers wasn't.

"I belong by your side," she insisted, as if having read his thoughts, still gripping both her daggers as she blocked his escape.

"I love you," he held her gaze with a blistering certitude, allowing his voice to drop to a whisper. "Please don't ask me to stand back and watch them die."

Her chin quivered at the worry and sorrow that filled his eyes; they both knew the truth that lay hidden beneath his haunting words. Next to Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, Kili was the deadliest warrior amongst his company. Having mastered not only hand to hand combat, but also the sword, daggers, hammer, and bow, he alone would be a match for any of the elven soldiers. Without him, the dwarves stood even less of a chance.

"I have to go," he urged again anxiously, glancing between her and the rapidly brightening horizon. "The war horn could sound at any moment. I _must_ fetch my armor."

Apprehension growing, he made a move for his shortsword, but instantly she was in front of him, this time pressing her sidearm to his throat. He was losing patience fast, as visions of his kin falling under elven arrows littered his head, but when he continued to push forward against her blade, he was met with a most unpleasant surprise. She did not yield.

Tauriel angled her weapon against his flesh, drawing a tiny rivulet of blood, and for a moment he was stricken into stillness. He reached up to feel a stream of wetness slide down to his chest, then held his fingers out in front of him, staring blankly at his own crimson plasma as it covered them.

"Amrâlimê?" he stared up at her in utter shock.

Her whole body shook, her breathing haggard as she pulled back, and when she saw the pain of betrayal in his eyes, a tear ran unbidden down her cheek.

"Do not test me, my love," she clenched her teeth, as an unfamiliar sting bloomed in the back of her throat. "You will not die today."

"Whether by your hand, an elven longsword, or the agony of watching my kinsmen fall," he said evenly, "I guarantee you that by sunset, I will have found my grave."

Salty droplets continued to overflow and streak her face. How could he assault her with such poisonous words? Her hands were quaking uncontrollably, but still she held her ground, and the rawness of her emotions on such consummate display only made her seem even more deadly and dangerous.

"Fili is up there _right now _without me," he raised an eyebrow softly, appealing to her tender side with concern for his only brother.

"And without you, he will stay," she forced out through trembling lips, clearly in misery at the thought of his demise.

Kili could see her confidence begin to unravel, and in a desperate attempt to obtain the upper hand, he reached for his sword again as quickly as he could. But as he straightened with it in his grasp, the air was forced violently from his lungs, and his whole body was propelled backward towards the rock wall with such force that it felt as though a hurricane had swallowed him. His shoulder connected with a dizzying thud against the stone, and he gasped, looking down to find a rusty stain blossoming across the front of his tattered shirt.

In the blink of an eye, Tauriel had thrown one of her daggers, expertly pinning him against the outcropping by his tunic, and managing to slice into his shoulder on the way. Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew wide. Clearly she had not been planning to attack him with such fervor. But noting the slight fear and disbelief in his stare, she decide to use his apprehension to her advantage.

"I told you I would not let you go," she walked toward him, still clutching the other of her twin knives in her fist. "You cannot charge to your doom. I will not let it happen."

"And if I still refuse to stay behind?" he retorted angrily, squirming against the fabric in an attempt to tear himself free.

"Then," she blinked and inhaled a deep, sharp breath, "I will have to make sure that you are of no use in battle."

He knew it was nothing more than an empty threat; she was already quite upset about the tiny blow she'd accidentally dealt him. When she lifted her other dagger above his briefly incapacitated sword arm though, he still couldn't stop a jolt of terror from running through him. He yanked against his shirt again, trying to call her bluff, but when she raised her blade even higher and pointed it downward, all bets were off.

"Maiming me will not bring me back to you alive!" he screamed, squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them when, thankfully, he didn't feel her steel. "But following me might," he added, suddenly calm.

He searched her eyes pleadingly, praying she would understand, and as the panic left her features, her remaining weapon hit the ground. She knew he was aware that she wouldn't have hurt him; he didn't have to say. And though her lips parted slowly, she remained silent and solemn as she extricated her decorative elven blade from the rock. If he wouldn't acquiesce to avoiding the battlefield, at least he would allow her to follow him there, and that was enough.


	2. Part II: Battle

Author's Note: This follows the story arc of the movies to some extent, but several things have been added, altered, or omitted in the interest of suiting my purposes here. So, yeah. Don't hate me! :)

* * *

By the time they had reached the crest of the mountain, both elf and dwarf were slightly out of breath, but as they climbed up and over the edge of the bridge, Kili motioned for his companion to stay behind him and keep walking. Lord Dain and his army were already stationed at the southern face, along the base of the Lonely Mountain, and King Thranduil of Mirkwood's elven forces lined the opposite edge of the valley. Only the dwarven king and his small band of adventurers remained before the gateway to Erebor, gazing out over the vast expanse of a land that would soon be stained with blood.

The dwarves heard Kili's footsteps, and several broke their watch, coming forward to meet him with relief written across their faces. But when they saw the former woodland captain following closely at his heels, many expressions turned angry and confused, and a cacophony of mumbled curses in both Westron and Khuzdul ensued.

Not even breaking his stride, Kili unsheathed his shortsword, and with an absolutely menacing and dangerous glare, headed for the entrance that would lead them into the mountain.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Thorin Oakenshield addressed his nephew. "You mean to bring an elf into _my_ kingdom!?"

The young prince ground to a halt, and bowed his head respectfully to his king, but the fury that was radiating off him only intensified.

"Tauriel is with me," he growled. "And if anyone," his eyes raked across the group, "has a problem with that," a pause hung in the air, "...then I suggest you take it up with the end of my blade!"

The madness still sparkling in his uncle's eyes had a way of making Kili feel physically ill, but even Fili's features contorted in fear at the harsh and formidable words his younger brother had spoken. Surely the mountain monarch, now derranged with gold lust, would call for his banishment, or even worse, his head. But just as Thorin was about to loose some vengeful words upon him, the dissonance of a blaring horn echoed across the valley.

"That was not an elven war horn," Tauriel ran to the edge of the bridge and started anxiously scanning the lowlands.

"Orcs," Fili growled, pointing to the southwestern hills just past the treeline.

Horrified, the elf stepped back to follow the orientation of his finger, and sure enough, there marched a contingent of black scouts, followed close behind by a massive sea of darkness. There were thousands.

"My armor," Kili looked to her with urgency, resheathing his weapon.

The dwarf king's attention had been stolen in the interim, and he was now leaning silently over the wall at the edge of the terrace, seemingly engaged in some type of internal struggle. His nephew cast a worried glance in his direction, but knowing there was very little time, he didn't linger.

"Do not let him out of your sight!" he called back to his brother, and the elf followed him into the bowels of the mountain city.

* * *

Through a maze of winding corridors, Kili led his beloved with haste towards his quarters, flinging the door open with the carelessness of necessity before tossing his coat down and removing his spattered shirt. As he searched, bare-chested, through the wardrobe beside his bed, Tauriel quickly snatched up the torn tunic and ripped a long, thin strip from its lining, coming up behind him to wrap and tie it across his shoulder.

"It's just a scratch," he turned to her with a comforting smile as she knotted it.

He was well aware that now, having seen the wound, she must feel incredibly guilty for having inflicted such an injury upon him, even though it was short and shallow, and had already clotted and begun to close. Briefly, he forgot about the elves and orcs, about his uncle, the war closing in on all sides, and the blood of his kinsmen that would so soon be spilt. Gazing intently into her eyes, the world fell away, and his deepest and most aching desire was to slow time down. Just one more moment to bask in the bliss of being surrounded by her comfort, her scent, her love; he craved it more than words could describe or thoughts could allow. And he realized that he would do just about anything to protect the irrefutable bond that existed between them. How perfectly right she had been. Only together, did they stand a chance. If they wanted a future, they would both have to fight for it.

Her nimble fingers tied the laces of the clean tunic he had chosen, and when she finished she stood still, eyes gliding over every inch of him in turn, trying to commit each tiny detail of him to memory.

"We are coming back," he said reassuringly, taking her hand. "Tomorrow, in two days, in three days, in ten ...whenever this is over, we will be standing together again, right here."

She forced a small smile, caressing the side of his cheek with her silky palm, and bent to press her lips to his with a slow and gentle pressure. He returned her kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and gasping into her mouth, as he tried to force the gravest and most torturous thoughts from his head. The fear that these would be their final moments together was threatening to overtake him, but he beat it down, losing himself in the motion of their bodies as he held her tight against him and melted into her arms.

When he finally pulled back, she could barely draw a breath, and they leaned together letting their foreheads meet, finding a sort of strength in the affection that hung between them.

"Armor," he finally swallowed, with a renewed sense of urgency.

And in minutes he was properly outfitted and prepared, leaving the city of Erebor behind as they emerged into the daylight side by side.

* * *

As Kili and Tauriel approached the edge of the bridge, the jarring screech of an uruk-hai war horn swept the valley below once more, and King Thorin's men looked on in blind terror as the great mass of orks stormed the battlefield before them, heading full force for the front line of the dwarven army. But as they clashed against the shields of Dain Ironfoot's mighty forces, a series of unexpected and miraculous things happened. An unwavering and harmonious warcry resounded through the chaos, and a thousand elven arrows darkened the sky, plummeting to earth over the heads of the uruk army. Thranduil of Mirkwood had ordered an attack on the orks, and not the dwarves.

Then, with such evidence of strength and valor unfolding before his eyes, Thorin Oakenshield raged against the darkness in his veins, and beat back his dragon sickness to regain his senses. When he stepped away from the wall to rejoin his loyal kinsmen, every face among them immediately brightened. The maleficence in his glare had vanished under his iron will, and for the first time in days, his nephews recognized their uncle.

And finally, the lake men rallied from the edge of Dale's eastern battlements, and pushed the orc forces back to the foot of the watch tower at Ravenhill, forcing them into a funnel between the dwarves and elves, to be slowly beaten down from all three sides.

"I know I have no right to ask," the dwarf king stood tall, addressing his company, "but will you follow me into battle, one last time?"

Swords flew into the air, raised appreciatively overhead with raucous yells and chants, all but the weapons of young Kili and his beloved, who stood a few paces behind the rest of the group, transfixed as they stared into eachother's eyes.

"Kili?" Fili called from beside their uncle, and suddenly all eyes were trained upon the couple.

Kili knew he shouldn't touch her, or even look at her this way in front of them. This was hardly the time to create further conflict among them. But as he gazed upon her awe-inspiring beauty, peering through into her strong and vibrant warrior soul, holding back became more excruciating with every passing second, and if he didn't taste her lips just one more time, he was afraid that it might just drive him insane. He quickly glanced toward his brother, trying to will his rising passions to fizzle, but in the end...

"Oh, fuck it," he stretched up and assailed her mouth with a deep and intense kiss that she couldn't help but return in kind.

Their indiscretion lasted just a few tantalizing seconds, but when he turned back towards his kinsmen he was met with a sea of open mouths and impossibly widened eyes.

"So," he began breathlessly, meeting the awkward stare of his brother, "I stay next to you, she stays next to me, and we send some filthy, hideous orcs to their graves."

There was a short pause, followed by Fili's silent, uncomfortable nod, and an unreadable expression shot in their direction by Thorin, which appeared to dictate that an unpleasant conversation was in order once the melee of a multi-faceted bloodbath dissipated.

"For Erebor!" their king roared, leading the first charge down the mountain, and shortly their entire group had spread and was in the thick of it, slashing and stabbing left and right as they pushed their aggressors back towards the narrowing field.

* * *

Kili and his elf brought up the rear of Thorin's pack, expertly beating back straggling orcs who harbored the intention of a cowardly ambush from behind. The forces of elves and men, along with the dwarves of the Iron Hills, were making short work of their enemy's first battalion, and as the wave of their onslaught began to diminish and recoil, newly freed attentions became focused on the unusual pair. The dwarf king and his eldest nephew looked on in awe as a band of orc mercenaries surged forward from just a few yards behind, their kinsman and the elf warrior the only two still engaged in battle, for the moment.

Back to back, they slashed and lunged in rapid succession, making quick work of every darkling that dared come within reach. Watching them was almost like viewing a ceremony, somehow secret and sacred, the unparalleled skill of each practiced motion unfolding as if it had been choreographed. Like magnets, they drew strength and momentum from eachother, moving as if connected by an invisible force. And the longer the two continued in their haunting synchronicity, the harder the absolute perfection of their pairing became to deny.

Kili knowingly ducked the backswing of one of Tauriel's twin daggers, bending down and flattening his back for a single second, just long enough for her to roll across to his other side, burying a blade into the skull of her next opponent. They changed direction, swiveling gracefully a hundred degrees, and he gutted two orcs with a single stroke, never faltering as a lock of her fiery hair swept back across his shoulder, gliding briefly over his swordarm.

In a matter of minutes, an entire troupe of thirty or more lay piled around them, black blood pooling beneath their feet. And as the last of their advancing foes fell under the elf's deadly steel, for the first time, they realized that they'd been entertaining an audience.

Breathing heavily from the exertion and their dwindling waves of adrenaline, they looked across the field noting several anxious and stunned expressions, then simultaneously refocused their attention on eachother. Kili couldn't help but smile when she met his gaze, pure contentment sweeping over him in the warmth of her adoration, even covered in tarry plasma and overwhelmed by the stench of death. He could lose himself in those eyes, shining brilliant like a sun that lit his own private universe, but he forced himself to look away. They needed to concentrate, and now was not the time.

Thorin Oakenshield stood speechless, jarred by what he had just seen. He had lived through many battles, known a great many of the most fearsome and respected dwarven warriors, but never before had he witnessed such a spectacle. His young nephew's prowess in battle had become downright terrifying and dangerous, and his mouth dropped open, realizing that the preceding moments had contained what could very well be the greatest display of lethal mastery that he'd ever had the pleasure to behold. The way Kili moved spoke of impossible speed and dexterity; never before had he seen another dwarf possess such agility and acute, concentrated power. He was unbelievably adept, almost graceful even, with a fluidity of skill far beyond his short years. And to engage in such brilliant combat alongside an elf and never fall out of step was equally unnerving, particularly as it would have appeared to an outsider as though the two had been companions for a very long time.

"Kili," his brother approached, staring into him with disbelief, "that was ...amazing."

"I told you she'd be an asset in battle," he grinned, entirely unaware that it was his _own_ skill his brother had been referring to.

"The way you swung, the way you moved," Fili continued in earnest, "I've never seen anything like it before. It was almost like ...watching someone else."

Kili resheathed his swords as understanding dawned, stepping forward to place a hand on his apprehensive brother's shoulder.

"It's different now," he said assuredly, glancing back over his shoulder at Tauriel, "because I have something else to fight for."

Fili responded with the hint of a smile and an accepting nod. Seeing the pure love and admiration in his sibling's eyes as they fell upon the elf was both comforting, and unsettling, at the very same time. He had been there when her magic plucked Kili from the jaws of darkness, the white light of creation emanating from her every pore, and he suddenly found himself wondering if perhaps, at that very moment, the two had become entwined on some mysterious spiritual level. No matter what the cause, the outcome was patently clear. Whatever was between them had grown incredibly strong, and was likely to be the final stroke in turning the tide of this war.

* * *

As the orc army's second wave surged violently against the dwarven front line, Thorin finally spied the one he'd been searching for since they advanced. Azog, The Defiler, the general of the dark army, and a longtime foe with whom he had a painful and tragic history. If he could dispatch this vile and malicious enemy, it was likely that both orc and goblin forces would retreat, or at the very least, fall easily and quickly in the chaos of a rudderless final charge. The king glared into the distance, seething with contempt, and pointed toward the watchtower at the tallest slope of Ravenhill.

"Fili, Kili, Dwalin, with me!"

They all followed the arc of his scorching stare to a fluttering black flag perched at the highest level of the tower's ruins, and immediately understanding his intentions, followed him in a blitz up the hill to claim his vengeance. It wasn't until they reached the base of the stone sentinel that Kili realized Tauriel was not behind him there. A sinking feeling gripped him immediately, and he considered turning back to collect her, but his brother grasped him knowingly by the arm, and gestured with his eyes towards the upper levels. _We need you_, his expression read, and Kili nodded in agreement, forcing the dread that had risen in him down deep. It was time to finish this.

Their uncle stood motionless a moment, surveying their surroundings, a foreboding in his bones beginning to scream that something wasn't right. He orders his nephews to search the tower, making it stringently clear that they were not to engage any adversary they may find there, and turned away towards the frozen plane of the plateau that looked out over Erebor. Fili and Kili did as they were instructed, entering the crumbling halls as cautiously as possible.

Meanwhile, below, Tauriel had been assisting her beloved's company with a new barrage of orcs, turning around just in time to watch him disappear into the lonely tower's ruins. She made for the base of Ravenhill, which was littered with the small skirmishes of lakemen and goblins, but just as she was about to make short work of the impending climb, a familiar voice behind her stole her attentions, with words that left a dizzying discomfort as they hit her ears.

"A second force presses on to Ravenhill from Gundabad. They are planning an ambush," the voice was thick with worry.

"Legolas," she ran to him, watching his features distort with panic at the mere sight of her.

He'd been addressing the grey wizard, Mithrandir, and the dwarves' tiny companion, the ginger haired hobbit. After she'd been banished the elven prince had hoped to find her, but never here amid the danger of an ever-escalating fray.

"Another battalion will converge on the hill?" she asked anxiously, eschewing politeness and patience in the urgency of her fear.

"They come to destroy the entire bloodline of Durin," the wizard answered, gazing uneasily toward the watch tower. "It is a trap. Somebody needs to warn them."

"Kili," she whispered, devastated, raising her eyes to the crumbling structures above.

Immediately, she took off in a sprint up the slope, praying urgently under her breath that she wouldn't be too late to reach him.

"I will come with you!" her prince called out, scrambling up the hillside after her, as the wizard and the hobbit began to formulate their own plans.


	3. Part III: Desolation

"Kili!" Tauriel's voice rang out, echoing through the ruins.

Searching constantly with her eyes for any sign of her beloved, she barely registered an obstruction as it hit her boot, but when she looked down, a jolt of utter panic struck her. It was the bloody, fractured body of her lover's older brother, Fili, laying splayed across the ground, glazed eyes empty and cold. Clearly he'd been thrown over the crumbling ramparts from a great height. Holding her breath and willing the contents of her stomach to resettle, she knelt down with one hand clasped across her mouth, using the other to gently sweep his eyelids shut.

Terror filled her, and the urge to relinquish her strength and drop the rest of the way down to the frozen earth was strong. It would be easy to give up and allow the sorrow and fear that permeated her being to simply swallow her whole. But as appealing as an extended rest and a long cry were becoming, she forced the hope that had been threatening to leave her to resurge, and used the frenzy of her growing anxiety to push on. Kili could still be alive, and if he was, he would need her help.

In her dread, the elf's senses were at an all time high, and within just another moment or two, she could faintly make out the sound of clashing steel on the freezing wind.

"Kili!?" she called out beseechingly again, and this time, even through the discord of battle, he heard her.

No sooner had his name left her trembling lips, than she was blindsided by the force of a hulking backhand. Azog's second in command, the giant uruk warrior, Bolg, had made out her desperate cries as well, and the resonance of her voice had led him directly to her.

The instant throb as she connected with the stone wall was intense, but Tauriel clenched her teeth and rose again through the pain. She needed to get to Kili, to warn him, to save him, and if this monster got in her way, she wouldn't hesitate to send him to the bowels of hell. Pooling all her energy, she sprinted towards her aggressor at high speed, picking up momentum with every step as she dove for his chest in a bid to drive her daggers clean through his middle. But what her assailant lacked in agility, he made up for in size and sheer brute strength, snatching her up with a crushing hand around her throat, and lifting her off the ground by her neck as she struggled.

She fought for air, thrashing under the vice-like grip, and could feel the world slowly caving in all around her. But just when she was ready to allow the darkness to take her, she heard a gorgeous sound, faint and fleeting on the air. Kili's voice had called her name from above. Her love was still alive.

With every ounce of strength she could muster, she twisted in Bolg's clutches to pry her leg back as far as possible, then shot it forward like an arrow to connect with his sternum, causing him to falter briefly in discomfort and release her. Chest heaving, she then came at him again, allowing anger and adrenaline to fuel her, but once more she was swatted away to skid across the dirt, colliding against the stone with a hollow and thunderous thud.

The energy began to leave her, and starved for breath, she feared she would be crushed by her towering adversary before she was able to drag herself up off the ground. But as the creature took a single step towards her, a shining shape descended, catching the light through the fog, and landed against the top of his back with a resounding metallic ding. It was Kili, she realized, fighting through her dizziness. He had found her and was attempting to destroy the beast.

He stabbed and slashed, only to be thrown off just as she had, but when he landed across the granite staircase, he tucked and rolled, and even in heavy armor was back to his feet and doubling his efforts in seconds. The sight of her bloodied and struggling on the ground had incensed in him a fury that overwrought all doubt and pain. But though his second attack was valiant, his unbridled anger became his enemy, and soon he too had been caught in a crushing grip, fighting against it in vain as a bladed mace was lifted above his head.

Tauriel hauled herself to her feet, head still spinning, cracked ribs making her strain for breath, and somehow threw herself forward against Bolg in a desperate attempt to force him into dropping the dwarf. But as he easily sent her flying once again across the dirt and ice, the bayonette rose higher and was plunged down into Kili's chest.

Time stopped as she stared disbelievingly into his eyes, watching while he gasped for air as his lungs were flooded with blood. He couldn't speak through the melange of shock, plasma, and pain, but his gaze held many things, chief among them, his infinite sadness over the uncertainty of her future. Though the onslaught of death was excruciating, he kept his face as calm as he could manage, allowing a single tear to run down his cheek, a final, crystalline emblem of his love.

The elf cried out in misery as he fell, lifeless, to the ground, and her own tears clouded her already blurring vision. Her screaming sobs echoed through the whole of the valley, bringing other mourners to their knees, every species, as they all felt the weight of her unfathomable pain. In that moment, all other thoughts and cares left her, and the only need that burned inside was the black desire for destruction and vengeance.

She wiped the saline from her eyes, and forced her battle-worn body to rise tall. Then, focusing all her rage into a tight ball in her core, Tauriel flew toward her enemy with a dangerously renewed vigor. She used his height against him by propelling her tiny frame upward, encircling his enormous neck with her strong arms, and using her weight to drag him forward over the cliff face, careening down the hill along with him in a brilliant free-fall that she prayed would bury him.

Having made his way through countless orcs and goblins to get to her, Legolas watched from afar, eyes widening as they fell upon her unconscious form, spread precariously across a small outcropping halfway to the bottom. Amazingly, Bolg was still standing after their encounter, and the woodland prince immediately reached for an arrow. But having moved so quickly through the hordes on his way up, his quiver was empty, every last bolt expelled.

His features contorted in terror as he saw the giant headed for his battered companion, and with time running out and a great deal of space still between them, he quickly enacted the only solution that came to mind. He unsheathed his sword and leapt from his high perch, burying it in the back of an enormous troll who'd been assailing him from below, and with a great deal of strength and effort, steering the creature towards the base of a nearby tower. The troll crashed through the stone, descending rapidly to its death, and the structure fell into place between the two peaks, allowing him to swiftly close the distance.

A dangerous battle ensued within the rapidly disintegrating ruins, suspended above the gorge where a loss of balance spelled certain demise. But in the end, Legolas had forced his shortsword through Bolg's skull, and Tauriel had awoken in one piece, instantly dragging herself back up the hill.

In the interim, Thorin Oakenshield had brought down the orc commander, Azog, unfortunately at the cost of his own life. The dark forces began to retreat and disband, but there was little celebration amongst the dwarves, as the evil that sought them out had managed to claim a malicious victory. The bloodline of Durin had been severed for all time; both the king, and his heirs, lay decimated upon the battlefield. Every head hung low.

* * *

When Tauriel finally made her way back to where Kili had fallen, she immediately dropped to her knees beside him. He was so pale, so utterly motionless, and all around him was his own half-frozen scarlet blood. Her tears overflowed again as she ran her fingers across his lips, pleading silently to her own gods and his as well, to let this all be a nightmare that she'd awaken from in his arms. His strong embrace, warm and comforting and wonderful, she realized she would never be able to drown in it again.

"He's so cold," she lamented, recognizing Legolas's footsteps behind her. "Kili is never cold."

The elven prince said nothing, but stood a short distance away, a habit he had formed over the centuries of their friendship, his way of comforting her without invading her space. She stroked Kili's cheek, thinking back to every time she had done it before, remembering how he would turn his head and kiss her palm, an open expression of his affection. Even as fond and intimate memories came rushing back to her with joy, the thought of never being with him again broke her inside beyond repair. To hear his voice just one more time, to taste his lips, to breathe his breath; at that moment she would've given anything, including her own life.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she laid her head down gently on his chest, but the freezing mass of punctured armor only twisted her emotions further. And the absence of his normally strong and steady heartbeat caused a new wave of despair to wash over her aching bones. Suddenly, she felt no need for discretion. She'd never came right out and told another single soul of her feelings for Kili, but now in death it was only right to honor him with the truth of her devotion.

"I loved him, Legolas," she said calmly. "I had chosen him, as my mate."

Although her dearest friend had known of her entanglement with the dwarf, hearing her say it still caused him mild surprise and melancholy, but he listened, hoping it would help to ease her suffering.

"I thought it would help!" she cried out further in anguish. "I thought, if I gave myself to him, it would release those emotions and leave me in peace. But it's worse," she sniffed. "I only feel it more. I feel everything!"

Her revelation that she had consummated her relationship with Kili shocked her prince immeasurably, and also stung, but before he could respond, they both felt the presence of his father, the elven king Thranduil, drawing near. Hushed tones and sorrowful whispers populated the half-exposed hallway between father and son, and then her Legolas departed, leaving her to the mercy of their lord.

"They want to bury him," she looked up from beside her fallen lover's lifeless form.

"Yes," Thranduil answered, and a tenderness emanated from him that she had not seen since she was a tiny elfling.

"Why does it hurt so much?"

"Because it was real," he replied, expression softening in his own disbelief.

And for the first time since she had fought by Kili's side, her lips curled slightly upward in a wistful smile.

* * *

Kili opened his eyes, strange noises filling the fog. Every whisper, every gust of wind seemed to echo through his head at an uncomfortable volume. The air reeked of steel, of dried blood, and death, and he suddenly felt frozen, permeated by cold. Gazing out upon the valley, he tried to piece together the last few moments, apprehensive of how he had awoken standing here. The war had clearly ended, from what he could see below, but he didn't even remember how, and that caused an overwhelming dread to rise in him.

_Fili! _It all started slowly coming back to him. Azog had murdered his brother, he seethed, had thrown him from the ruins like a child's ragdoll. And afterwards, all he had seen was red, as he rampaged through his enemies like a fire through brush. He hadn't counted, he had intended to kill them all, and in his lust for vengeance, he'd been on the way to accomplishing exactly that. _But, no. _There was another need that had registered. He was surging and swirling in a fit of blind rage, but something pulled him out of it, something captured his attention and filled his heart with an even greater fear. ..._Tauriel._

He remembered now! He had heard her sweet voice calling his name. She had come to find him, and she'd gotten herself into some trouble. Suddenly frantic, Kili turned back in the direction of the ruins, and that's when he saw something that chilled him to the bone: himself.

There he lay, being silently wept over by his elf. But that wasn't possible, was it? Shocked stiff and unable to keep himself away, he walked towards the scene in front of him, as if caught in a brutal magnetic pull. His armor was split open like the lining of a tin can, a lake of his own blood staining the snow beneath him, and in his chest, a gaping, hideous hole. It hit him like a chunk of stone. Kili was dead.

He crumpled to his knees, if the soul can be said to have any, and plasmic tears came gushing from his disembodied eyes.

"Tauriel," he called out in stifling despair, but she did not hear him. His hollow voice was lost in the void.

Then behind him, two sets of footsteps rang out clear, headed in his direction as he hauled himself back up. It was Fili and Thorin, both smiling as they drew closer, and a blinding white light began to spread over the hill. The aroma of hot stew and honey mead wafted thick through the foggy air, and the brilliant glow grew more warm and inviting by the second.

"We have waited for you, brother," Fili placed a hand on his shoulder, "but now it is time to go. The halls of our fathers await."

Kili stared into his eyes, but then glanced back at his mourning lover, and in his heart he knew his choice had already been made.

"I must stay," he said, gesturing towards the elf with his eyes, and though clearly disappointed, his brother steeled himself and nodded.

They embraced, as he also did afterwards with Thorin, and then his kin turned towards the illumination and slowly walked forward to take their place in paradise.

"Any time you want to join us," Thorin called over his shoulder, "just return to this place, and remember us together."

Kili grinned slightly, and watched as the blazing light dissipated, leaving nothing in its wake but the cold and empty new world he wandered.

* * *

Author's Note: I know anyone who's read this far probably dislikes me a great deal after this, but rest assured, I have a plan, and hopefully by the conclusion of our last and final chapter, you'll be left with satisfaction (rather than the desire to stone me to death!).


	4. Part IV: Starlight

In the days following their battle, Kili's specter remained vigilant by Tauriel's side. Everywhere she went, he followed, heartbroken, as her tears continued to ebb and flow in an excruciating cycle of agony and emptiness. In her moments of numbness, she often allowed her eyes to close, sometimes dreaming of their moments together, other times wishing she could've followed him into oblivion. She didn't eat, she seldom slept, and occasionally she held her breath, torturing herself with the desire for death, which she knew would not come even if she ceased to breathe.

Lord Dain had left dominion over the Ered Luin dwarves to Oin, and in a rare and unprecedented turn of events, he had welcomed Tauriel, Bard, Lord Elrond, and Lady Galadriel into the mountain to attend the royal family's funeral. Food and drink were plentiful, as were tales of their bloodline's bravery and honor, and true to their nature, many of the dwarrow wore smiles as they preferred to focus on the good times they had all enjoyed together, rather than the pain that surrounded the passing of their lords.

But even amidst cheerful banter, dizzying wine, and amiable company, Tauriel couldn't force herself to feel anything else save the devastation of loss, and the intense yearning to be wrapped in a warm embrace by the strong arms that she would never feel around her again. As she approached Kili's body, the sorrow surrounding her was palpable, and many of the dwarves observed discreetly from a distance, unable to stop themselves from being touched by her anguish. She ran her slender fingers through a lock of his hair, as unbidden teardrops fell upon his lifeless form, her lips starting to tremble uncontrollably. Just the sight of his beautiful corpse was too much for her to bear, and very soon she was flying back into the upper levels, towards the gateway and out onto the terrace under the sky.

Kili followed, growing more anxious by the moment, as her already dismal state was rapidly declining even further. Her silky skin had become impossibly pale, her eyes glazing over, her already slight frame decreasing in volume as the angles of her bones grew more prominent. His eyes overflowed in the despair of watching her suffer, and worse, his inability to do a single thing about it. Instinctually, he reached out to caress her cheek in a gesture of comfort, but when his weightless fingertips brushed across her flesh like a ribbon of static, she only sobbed, features contorting in misery.

For the first time since his untimely demise, the dwarf prince wondered if the presence of his spirit in close proximity was in some way doing her more harm than good. But before he could get lost in the guilt of such speculations, an unfamiliar voice sounded softly behind him.

"She is fading, master dwarf," the sound was lovely, like the tones of a harp.

"You can see me?" he turned to face his visitor in awe.

It was Lady Galadriel. He had never looked upon her, but he knew that it must be her. An achingly lovely, statuesque, golden-haired elf queen with a gentle glow that seemed to emanate from within, surrounding her like the brilliant light he had seen once before, cloaking _his _elf when she had stolen him from darkness back in Laketown.

"I see much," she replied with a gentle smile, words spoken through her soul, rather than her mouth.

"What will happen to her?" he asked finally, brows knit in worry and fear.

"Her mate has died before his time," the lady answered solemnly, "and she will not survive without him. The light of the Eldar is leaving her, her life force dwindling, fast. She will become a wraith, wandering this world in the shadows, unable to overcome her own desolation."

Kili turned back towards his love with widened eyes and quivering lips. Already she was so far gone that she didn't even register the presence of the white queen. She only sat, perfectly still, back braced against the base of the ramparts, staring blankly out into the distance as shimmering tears streamed down her face.

"Can you save her?" he begged. "Please. I will do anything."

"I cannot keep her alive," the words hit him like a warhammer to the chest. "She has not the will. She will only fight against such magick in the end."

"Kili?" a hollow whisper floated off his lover's lips as his gaze rose steadily to meet her own.

Her irises had frosted to a creamy white and her skin was drawing ashen as it caught the light of the moon.

"Tauriel!" he cried out mournfully. "Not like this. Please, no!"

If she could see him or even sense his presence there, it meant that death was starting to take her. She may only have moments left. But somehow, a sense of acceptance washed through him, and both his voice and his movements became comfortably passive.

"Will you forfeit your place in the halls of your kin to remain with her?" Lady Galadriel inquired calmly.

"Yes," he said resolutely, quaking in grief. "I will wander as she wanders. Mine is a promise made."

At this, the lady smiled, and something brightened in her eyes.

"Then choose a star."

Kili looked to her with confusion, but did as he was told. It was said that the elven beauty Galadriel, protector of Middle Earth, was the most powerful being to walk their world, and that her knowledge was boundless, and her magick immense. If she could bring some level of relief or comfort to his beloved, he would not question it, but embrace it, with open arms.

"That one," he pointed northward, to a group of seven stars, singling out the highest and brightest of the cluster.

On the night of he and Tauriel's very first kiss, she had pointed it out as they lay wrapped around eachother, gazing up at the sky, and pondering the intensity of their connection. It was the most important constellation to her people, she informed him, a shape that elves called the _Valacirca_. He knew that if she had been asked to decide, these would be the stars that she most admired.

"A good choice," the lady nodded knowingly. "Now take her hand, if you desire her happiness."

He moved closer to his elf, until their noses almost touched as he faced her, and reached for her palm, intertwining their fingers. Then the whole sky was set ablaze with a blinding light, and a deluge of warmth and serenity washed over them. The next thing Kili knew, he was holding her close, and the beauty of health and joy was alive in her again.

* * *

"Tauriel," Kili's eyes filled with wonder and relief as he gazed upon her, taking her face in his hands. "Where are we?"

As his fingers lazily stroked her cheeks, he marveled at the sensation of skin upon skin. He could feel her as though they were both still alive, and for the first time in days, he knew a sense of peace.

"Among the stars," she replied, gesturing downward with a nod.

Soft white, billowing fibers akin to tangible clouds littered the ground like a carpet of smoke, and his eyes grew wide, realizing that the elf sorceress had given them a chance to be together after all. Overjoyed, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, tentatively at first, then escalating in pressure until she kissed him back so ardently that every worry was stripped away.

"I have missed you," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I never knew that anything could hurt so much, until..."

She couldn't bring herself to say it, even now with his arms around her. Speaking of his death would only dampen the bliss of his company, and possibly destroy a little piece of her soul. She was aware that she too had passed from the physical realm, that their presence together was possible only through her own demise, but the thought of his years being forcibly cut so short still sliced her like a knife. The fact that he was robbed of a full and satisfying life made something inside her break all over again.

"Your kin," she saddened further at another realization. "You have given up your place in the dwarven halls at Mandos. You cannot join them now in awaiting your creator."

"My paradise," he took her hand and held it across his heart, "is where you are. The first time that you gasped my name in the throes of passion, I swore I could see heaven inside your eyes, and there it remains. You are my only desire. I will want for nothing."

His gorgeous words ignited a spark in her, and before she even knew what was happening, she was yanking off their clothing and tossing it away while his hands explored her body, leaving pleasure in their wake. Each touch was like a feather, caressing her skin, his strong arms enveloping her in a cherishing embrace as a warm and pleasant ache began to fill her from head to toe. His mouth followed, soliciting a series of harmonious moans, making her arch back in satisfaction as he found his way to all the places he'd been yearning to taste again.

"Be mine forever," he whispered, stealing the air from her lungs with an impassioned kiss. "When the stars have burnt out and the sun ceases to shine, when your light is all that remains to warm the world, let me stand beside you. And when your lips touch mine, the whole of Arda will see a twinkle in the sky, and know that you are loved beyond all measure, for the rest of time."

"Always," she buried her hands in his chestnut waves. "Only you can light a flame within my soul. Only you can make me glow."

They came together, clinging to eachother as he filled her, hands and legs and breath intertwining, while they moved in an amorous, rhythmic lull. Supple white flesh met velvety, rippling muscle as he cradled her, not wanting to leave the comfort of her perfect mouth for even a moment. Then their kisses turned to nuzzles, the pressure built to a quaking peak, and as his thrusts drew blissfully, agonizingly deep, all sense of their surroundings was blotted out by a cacophony of brilliant colors and strangled sighs.

Tremors wracked their bodies and he held her tight against his chest, waves of ecstasy rolling through them with a blistering intensity until they finally fell into stillness, cloaked in the zephyr of a thousand starbeams. Wrapped around one another, they drifted peacefully, content until dawn to revel in eachother's love.

Far below, Lady Galadriel gazed up towards the crest of the Valacirca, allowing a soft, knowing smile to cross her lips when she spied a twinkle, before turning to make her way back inside the Lonely Mountain.

THE END?


End file.
